


Post-Structural College

by Phrenotobe



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Post-Sburb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:10:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5696260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phrenotobe/pseuds/Phrenotobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose awakes to daylight, and too much of it as she lifts her hand to block it out.<br/>“Jade?” she mumbles, more of a sleepy lump than a woman with at least two thirds of a degree, if not more, “I hereby order you to snuff out the sun. Make it quick.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Post-Structural College

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sava](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sava/gifts).



Rose sits on the kitchen counter, her back to the room. It is an exercise in how long she can wait before the creeping feeling she gets manages to crawl all the way up her back and reach the base of her neck.  
College isn't what she and Jade thought it would be; though she has Jade beside her, and can skype her newfound family whenever she pleases, it still takes a minute to take stock of where she wakes up sometimes, expecting orange sleeves and young palms instead of highlighter smudges, the scuff of pencil lead under the edge of her hand, and french polish to hide the ink on her fingertips.  
The guys like to call from their own colleges, and snapchat pictures of Bec in class. Bec is now a perfectly normal white dog of unknown and possibly mixed heritage, and gets along just fine with two cats and a turtle in a terrarium, so long as there are plenty of walks.  
Rose likes to keep up with everybody. With a shared experience such as SBURB, it takes a little while to settle that it is over. She is aware, much as Jade is, that there are experiences you don't want to share. But knowing that John keeps an illegal amphibian in his room, and has not yet declared his major is a slight comfort; their leader has always been a dizzy enigma. 

Jade opens the door, illuminating Rose in the slice of light from the bedroom. The light angles off her bicep, an amazonian physique with a flash of lens as her head rises.  
“Hey,” Jade says, “Will you come to bed?”  
Rose slips off the counter. She is edging over toward the side of being short, just like Dave, and she has gone back and forth on how she feels about it. Being unable to fly is the main drawback, though sometimes she still has dreams of soaring. She is not the only one.

Jade goes back into their room, and Rose picks her way across the floor. Being back in the world – the real world, Rose, if you die in Canada you die in real life - has not made her any tidier, and only room checks keep things from piling high. Jade is similarly used to knowing where everything is via an explosively wild display. 

Rose turns off the light after she enters the room. It isn't so much that she doesn't like to dress for bed in light, but the dark feels so much more forgiving, and nearly always has.  
“Are your feet cold?” Jade asks, wary as Rose turns, walks careful steps to the window to edge open the curtain and glance outside. 

Object permanence is the thing. Dreambubbles have made Rose wary of what is and isn't fact, despite of how tangible they seem. She puts two fingers upon the sill, and presses her palm to the glass.  
“I'm sure you'll find out,” Rose says.  
She turns away and crosses the room, tentative a moment before Jade shifts in the gloom and throws the covers back to reveal a bright triangle of undersheet, illuminated by the crack in the curtain, glowing by moonlight. Jade's limbs are dark in contrast.  
“C'mon,” Jade says, beckoning.  
Rose acquieses, folding into the covers, the curl of Jade's arm. Jade mumbles a heartfelt noise of dissatisfaction as Rose's cold hands link behind Jade's neck. Rose kisses Jade, and for a moment feels newly real and alive; she sighs as Jade shifts from sweetness to the drowsy bearhug of somebody who has run two days back to back with creative mania and now wants nothing but sleep.  
“Your feet are freezing, Rose,” Jade complains, “And your hands, too. Just borrow my socks.”  
Rose only chuckles, glad to be safe in Jade's arms.  
“I couldn't,” she murmurs into the space underneath her chin, “What about my aesthetic? I'm sure you understand.”  
“Nope,” Jade says, “I'm too sleepy.”  
The room falls into silence, Jade's calm and restful breath aiding Rose's slip into dreams. 

 

Rose awakes to daylight, and too much of it as she lifts her hand to block it out.  
“Jade?” she mumbles, more of a sleepy lump than a woman with at least two thirds of a degree, if not more, “I hereby order you to snuff out the sun. Make it quick.”  
Jade snorts, her body coming in between Rose and the offending window. With a thump, she's on the bed again, tugging her close the way they've always fitted together.  
“Breakfast,” Jade says.  
“Grape soda and toast,” Rose says wearily, “A step down from organic figs and sparkling champagne, but I'll do my best to manage.”  
Rose closes her eyes, feeling the comfortable dim rather than directly seeing it as Jade pulls the covers back over them both. Afterwards, Jade doesn't move, kissing the top of Rose's head with merry and gentle vim.  
“I can probably find the first one,” she says, “I wanted to talk, though.”  
Rose gives Jade a one-armed squeeze to let her know she is listening. The other is trapped awkwardly between them, and Rose hopes that it won't get pins and needles before Jade finishes her idea.  
“So hey,” Jade says slowly, “I know it is pretty late, but I've spent a lot of time thinking. Pronouns and stuff.”  
“It can't be more than two in the afternoon,” Rose puns, “But really, I don't think anything is too late...”  
“Yeah,” Jade says, “I know. And we can talk about breakfast instead, if you want.”  
Rose opens her eyes, staring into the dip of Jade's collarbone.  
“Words that mean things are forever a good topic,” she says, level and quiet, “We can deal. I can deal. What is it?”  
“I think I wanna use they,” Jade blurts, fast like she is trying to say it all before doubt creeps in, “Maybe. Like I don't want to get in the way with this, or anything, but I thought about it, and-”  
Rose lifts her arm, putting her hand upon Jade's jaw and hearing Jade's voice tune downward into an inflective little mumble.  
“Yes,” Rose says, “I'll do whatever you need. Does anybody else need to know?”  
Jade hums a soft nope.  
“Just you right now,” as a whisper under the covers, “I trust you most.”


End file.
